


Eddies

by SLWalker



Series: Midnight Blue [5]
Category: Midnight Blue - Fandom, due South
Genre: Awkwardness, Christmas Fluff, F/M, In-Laws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: 1989: Mike ends up with Christmas off, which means dinner with the in-laws.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ride_Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride_Forever/gifts), [AnnieM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieM/gifts).



> For Ride, who made the mistake of mentioning Mike and holidays (this is not the story I owe you), and for Annie, who wanted me to cut the man a break. <3 He definitely gets one here.

"I'm not going to tell my parents that my husband won't come to Christmas dinner because he's worried he might have to socialize with his in-laws."  
  
"I think that's a perfectly legitimate reason," Mike pointed out, even as he was dragging the maroon sweater that Cin's Mom had given him _last_ Christmas over his head. He'd worked Christmas last year, had been able to dodge the celebration with his then-fiancee's family, but this year his luck ran out.  
  
It wasn't that he didn't like them. He actually thought they were great. Despite the fact he had no desire to come to church, despite the fact that he wasn't the son-in-law they'd been expecting to have for six whole years, they'd been nothing but warm and accepting to him. They lived the Christian philosophy that they preached; that whole family, including Cindy, were neck deep in Nipawin's charity community and they were well-liked all through town. Once every couple months, Cindy's mother brought a plate of cookies or a cake to the detachment and she'd been doing that even _before_ Mike was in Nipawin, just so the Mounties felt at home. Russ went to their church and Sandy even knew them loosely, socially, maybe because there were so many Masons around town.  
  
They were sweet, kind people. He liked them and would lay down his life to protect them.  
  
The idea of spending a whole evening in their house, surrounded by them, sounded like torture to him.  
  
"You're not getting out of this," Cindy said, shaking her head as she pulled her hair back and then went to pick her coat up off of the bed, until Mike's arms stopped her as he pressed up against her back to duck his head and kiss on her neck.  
  
"Can't we just stay home and fool around?" he asked up against her skin, not a little gratified by the way she shimmied her shoulders and shot a hand up to wind into his hair. "I bet that'd be more fun. We can make eggnog and get buzzed and just stay in bed all night fooling around."  
  
"Really, Mike? Tempting offer, but no," Cindy answered, head tipped over for a moment to the attention, before she used that grip on his hair to pull his head away from her neck. Mike soothed his own ego by believing she did that because he was just that good.  
  
He did let go of her reluctantly -- really reluctantly, because the idea of staying home to have sex was a whole lot better than visiting in-laws -- and pulled his comb out to fix his hair automatically. "C'mon, Cin, I'm gonna be surrounded by so much godliness that I'm not gonna want to fool around again for weeks."  
  
That made her laugh, as she fixed her coat and then turned back on him, sliding her hands up under his t-shirt and sweater and man, it never failed to give him goosebumps when she did that. "Uh huh. We'll see about that."  
  
"This isn't fair."  
  
"What's not?"  
  
"You turning me on before making me go look your preacher dad in the eyes," Mike said, albeit tongue-in-cheek, narrowing his eyes. "How am I supposed to even face the man, eh?"  
  
One of Cindy's eyebrows went up and she leaned up on her toes to kiss him, hands still under his shirts and the softness of her lips doing absolutely nothing for his dilemma there, before she murmured, "You go socialize for three hours or so, and I will make sure the rest of your night makes up for it."  
  
Thank whatever mercy there was in the universe that he managed to will that hard-on away before her Dad answered the door.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Mason household's split-level ranch was decked out in lights, with a pretty nice nativity outside the front of it, and even though Mike felt about as out of place as an unwashed transient in a fashion gala, he did appreciate how warm and happy it was. Cindy's family was very-- touchy. They hugged and wrapped arms around one another and petted shoulders and were just very affectionate, and that did absolutely nothing for Mike's sense of being completely ill-suited to be in their company, because he had no idea how to return it except very awkwardly.  
  
He didn't get out of it, either; Cin's Dad was a broad-shouldered guy and pretty much bear-hugged the air out of him, and then Cin's Mom didn't give him any time to recover before she dragged him down with an arm around his neck and left lipstick on his cheek and admired the sweater she'd given him last year, and all that happened within three steps of the door.  
  
Even Mike's ability to think about his wife naked couldn't survive that onslaught.  
  
He wasn't the only not-blond in attendance, but the dark-haired people were outnumbered at least three to one, so he managed to duck and weave his way over to sit next to his brother-in-law in solidarity, even though that guy was also apparently one of those touching types and gave him a manly half-hug, instantly making Mike regret his decision.  
  
He had no idea how he was surviving three hours of this.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The conversation meandered while dinner was being finished and laid out; Mike did his best to be invisible, somewhere on the left side of the big, beautifully decorated tree, but even he got dragged into it sometimes. He knew most of Cindy's family just because he was one of the town's Mounties and that meant he knew a heck of a lot of people, but there were a few here from out of town that didn't know him and therefore wanted to know a bunch of things that Mike thought weren't even all that relevant to talk about.  
  
Did he like his job? Yes, absolutely. Did he like Nipawin? Yeah, he did. How did he and Cindy meet? He was in the ER. Oh, was being a Mountie really that dangerous? Sometimes.  
  
Giving one word or short answers didn't deter them. Cindy occasionally hiked her eyebrow at him, and even only being married for seven months, he was well trained as to what that meant and managed to get out a slightly more complex answer here or there, but he hadn't been there a whole hour before he was quietly pondering escape, or maybe hoping Russ would call him for backup.  
  
Did they really all know how to ride horses? Uh... no. Didn't they learn that? Not anymore. Had he ever had to shoot anyone? No, thankfully. Oh, did he ever have anyone try to shoot him? Not exactly. What did that mean? Uhm...  
  
It was hard on a body, and Mike kept shifting in the fold-out chair, not quite able to keep himself from fidgeting whenever the scrutiny turned back onto him. Didn't these people have any interesting careers of their _own_ to talk about? Trying to explain what being a Mountie was like was nearly impossible. How do you describe something that was woven around your bones and through your skin and lived in every cell of you?  
  
These were such sweet, decent people, he knew they were just curious, but how do you say, _Two nights ago, I had to help the fire department cut a dead man out of his car because he hit a pole drunk, and then I had to go tell his mother and father that he was dead,_ and then explain to them that you were able to do this and still have Christmas dinner two days later because that was what you were trained and made for?  
  
Cindy, at least, got this kind of thing. Being a nurse was its own kind of intense. When they started asking questions that might lead that way, she let him off the hook and diverted them into other things, and every time she managed to do that, he practically sagged in that chair in relief.  
  
After all of that, the call to the dining room seemed something almost like mercy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
There wasn't enough table space to sit together, but Cindy's Dad gathered them all around the dining room table where the spread was laid out so they could say grace, and Mike learned quickly that nope, no mercy there.  
  
He did bow his head respectfully, he wasn't going to make them feel uncomfortable by flaunting his lack of religion, though he mostly tuned it out until he became the subject.  
  
"--and please, Lord, help Mike realize that we don't intend to lure him into the basement to turn him into sausage or for any other nefarious purpose, so he can stop looking at the door in silent desperation every two minutes."  
  
There was a long moment there where he had to figure out if he was okay with that; it was the mental image of these very nice, very religious people trying to lure him into a basement _nefariously_ that tipped the scales in their favor and he was laughing before he knew it, burying his face in his hands and listening to the chuckles as the patriarch there wrapped up the prayer.  
  
Well played, Reverend Mason.  
  
It was a little easier to get through dinner and not feel quite so antsy after that, even if he did spend a lot of that time kind of red-faced and trying to figure out why everyone wanted to elbow him (thankfully gently) in the ribs, until he put himself in a corner to get enough breathing room to enjoy the really fabulous cooking that the Mason family managed to put out.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The last hour was mostly occupied with relaxing after the food -- all awkwardness aside, Mike probably ate half his body weight because wow, that was some good stuff -- and handing out presents. Cindy had done most of their shopping, though not all; Mike liked figuring out gifts, but he didn't care for shopping and he didn't know her family anything as well as she did, so anytime they went to thank him, he pointed to her. She deserved the credit.  
  
She just rolled her eyes affectionately and said 'you're welcome' from both of them.  
  
Her parents had gotten him a set of new flies, and Mike didn't tell them that he already had all of those and then some; an extra set never went amiss, especially if he ended up casting into bushes and losing one. He fished generals most of the time, spares were a good thing to have. He thought probably Cindy had clued them in there. She ended up getting a whole box of books, some new and some second-hand, and given the way she was grinning, that was just what she wanted.  
  
They got some couple-y things, too; a new set of silverware. Their shared set consisted of the eclectic mix Mike had picked up over the years, and a plain set Cindy had owned before they lived together, so a more formal set was really nice. A blue-and-teal patterned sheet and comforter set, which briefly put Mike in mind of his wife naked again, though that thought died swiftly given the company before it could become any kind of problem. Stuff like that.  
  
The exchange of gifts was probably the least awkward part of the night so far; everyone was drowsy from the food and the warmth of the house, there was a goal and not a whole lot of cross-talk, the soft lights of the tree and the soft lights of the living room were mellow, and even still feeling ill-fitting and kind of out of place, Mike was able to step out of his own head long enough to admire it.  
  
He hadn't been back to his hometown for Christmas; the last time he'd been there for it, he was eighteen years old and after Depot, that was that. He and his parents sent each other a Christmas card and sometimes they chatted on the phone, but it didn't really go any further. Christmas hadn't been bad or anything before that, they always had a tree and he always had things under the tree, which some of the kids in that area couldn't say. But it wasn't anything like this.  
  
These people so openly, comfortably loved each other. It was kind of beautiful, the way they flowed around one another, even to the awkward rock they were eddying around.  
  
Mike snapped back into the moment when Cindy's Dad was opening his gift. Mike had caught him mentioning he needed some tools for the church, and so that was what Mike had gone and gotten, though Cindy did the wrapping.  
  
"Carpentry tools?" he asked, looking up and smiling at Mike with just enough confusion for Mike to take advantage.  
  
"For your church," he quipped back, not missing a beat. "I hear you like carpenters over there."  
  
It was payback for that prayer thing, and Cindy's father was laughing hard when he said, "That we do."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
There was more hugging on the way out the door because escaping unscathed was apparently out of the question, then Cindy was carrying the Tupperware to the car while Mike was carrying the presents, half-juggling everything to get it into the trunk intact. He closed it and leaned on the lid for a moment, and when he stood up, Cindy caught his hand.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked, eyebrows a little pinched.  
  
Mike's eyebrows drew in answer. "Yeah, fine."  
  
"Your hands are shaking," she said, lifting the one to show him.  
  
It was way below zero, but that wasn't why. Mike really wasn't sure why; he felt pretty good, if rather deeply relieved to be outside. He just shrugged, shifting the grip so he was holding her hand instead, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles. "I'm okay. Ready to go home, though."  
  
Cin's face softened, and in the scarce blue light of a waning crescent moon on snow, she was so beautiful that she caught his breath short. "Sounds like a good idea."  
  
  
  
  
  
Home was only five minutes away; nothing in Nipawin was far from anything else in Nipawin. Getting everything through the door and up to their second floor apartment was a bit of work, but once they had everything there and most of it put away, Cindy chased Mike to the couch while she went to mix up some eggnog for them.  
  
He was still a little shaky when he collapsed back into the cushions, still just as boggled by it, but their second-hand artificial Christmas tree was really cute and somewhere in the back of his head, Mike was starting to really consider buying a house. He'd lived his entire adult life bouncing between apartments and rented rooms, but this was as close as he'd ever been to settled, and he laid his head over to the side, just looking at that tree and thinking about a big one in front of some nice windows.  
  
"I think we'll skip the pre-dinner socialization pre-game," Cindy said, sitting down next to him and handing him a glass of eggnog that was definitely not light on the rum before taking a sip of her own. "I mean, if you get next Christmas off."  
  
Mike couldn't help but hope that he didn't, but he put his free arm around her. "It's your family, Cin, and Christmas only comes once a year," he said, after a few moments where he tried and failed to grasp why she suggested that.  
  
"Yeah," she said, giving his thigh a light swat before wrapping her hand to the inside, "but it's hard on _you_ , and that's not something I'm after."  
  
He opened his mouth to protest that -- geez, _hard_ was a lot of things, he wasn't sure he'd say that was, even if he was uncomfortable -- but he wasn't really sure _what_ to say. And somewhere beneath the urge to protest, there was something warm and touched that he wasn't any more sure of, or sure of how to express.  
  
"Mike, you don't let me do much for you, so let me do this," she said, after he'd been quiet for too long, her nails making a little zip noise as she ran them up and down his inseam the space of a few inches.  
  
"I don't know, you made me a pretty mean eggnog," he answered at length, but he pressed a long kiss into her hair right after.  
  
Cindy smiled into the rim of her glass, then took a sip and said, "You know it."  
  
  
  
  
  
The plan had been to fool around -- at least, Mike thought for sure that had been the plan -- but somewhere not quite to his second glass of eggnog, he'd ended up asleep on the couch with Cin laying on him, the warm weight of her a nice counterpoint to the dizzy feeling in his head, like she was holding him to the earth and making sure it didn't spin away without him.  
  
He wasn't sure what woke him up again; maybe the sound of someone else in the building closing their door, maybe just some internal time clock warning him that he was usually at work at this time, but whatever it was, he drifted back in a warm apartment, lit in nothing but multicolored Christmas lights, and for a long moment just regarded his wife through his eyelashes, and the way her pale hair caught every color off the tree.  
  
He wasn't buzzed anymore, but that was okay.  
  
"Hey you," Cin murmured, when he accidentally woke her up with an awkward stroke to push her bangs more away from her face.  
  
"Hey back," he answered, just as quiet. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
"Hm mm." Cindy picked her head up, looking pleasantly drowsy, and looked over his head and the edge of the couch to to wall clock they had hanging outside the kitchen door. "It's still Christmas," she said, sitting up on his hips and planting one hand to his chest to rub her eyes with the other. "Time to prove that you can still get turned on after all of that exposure to godliness."  
  
"Are you even awake enough to fool around?" Mike asked, though it made him laugh, just a little huff of one. And even not quite sure she was awake enough, his hands slid up the outsides of her thighs to find her hips.  
  
"I will be in a minute," she answered, shifting back just enough to slip her sleep-warm hands up under his shirt and sweater, but not before unbuttoning his jeans on the way.  
  
Turned out she was right about that.  
  
And that it more than made up for the three hours lost to socialization, too.


End file.
